A Dad's Abandonment
by cjb1990
Summary: Ending of season 3. How would it have been if Tony had known Gibbs for far longer? And what would it do to Tony if Gibbs didn't remember him? A short story, maybe going to continue
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this one popped into my head when I saw the ending of Hiatus part II once more. Don't know if it is a one-shot or if I'll expand on it. Guess it'll depend on the reviews of this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and this is written for non-profit purposes only**

**So, as always Read Enjoy and Review**

**Cjb1990**

* * *

Tony stood frozen, looking at the closed elevator doors where Ducky and Gibbs disappeared behind. He couldn't even make his eyes look around him to check the rest of team Gibbs. No that wasn't right, his team now. But he didn't want it to be his! He wanted him to lead him, to have his shoulder, the arm around him that said 'don't worry, I'll always be here for you'. But Gibbs didn't remember him. Didn't remember finding the RIMA graduate without a family. Didn't remember becoming his father, no his dad. He just didn't remember him.

Tony's heart broke in a million pieces. He knew his dad, and he knew that if he were to race to the house in Alexandria, there would be no one there. He swallowed thickly, and forced his body to relax a little so he could move.

He walked to Abby and pulled her into a hug. He felt her shoulders heave and her entire body tremble; her world was collapsing in this moment. His eyes were drawn to the Director. Shepherd looked devastated as well. Just like his Probie and Ziva. And he realized he had to be strong for them, to force his own abandonment deep down, in the same space that his father existed in. because if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to survive.

It was later that day well into the hours of the night. He had sent the team home without any hesitation. He told McGee to stay with Abby without any 'hinky business'. He was sitting at the old sofa, staring at the fireplace that wasn't lit. The homey feeling the house always exuded to him, was absent.

He was drinking his dad's bourbon, in a desperate attempt to make himself believe another parent didn't leave him behind. Only he was not making any headway in that department. Now getting drunk, that was going in the right direction.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard the door open. His hand automatically went to his sidearm, ready to point it at the intruder.

"Tony?" a deep gravelly voice sounded through the house and Tony sighed, feeling tears prickling in his eyes.

"Uncle Morrow," he answered, not able to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Within seconds the former NCIS Director was standing in front of him. Although for most of his life, the man was not a boss but an uncle for him.

"I heard, kid," the man sat down next to him, putting an arm on his shoulder.

Tony almost broke down at the touch. "He doesn't remember," he choked out.

"I know, kiddo," the man spoke softly.

"He's gone," Tony had difficulty breathing.

"Yes he is," Tom spoke, his voice making his words like a eulogy for the father Tony had found when he was eighteen.

"He's gone," the sudden realization truly sunk into his being with those words. It broke Tony's resolve and he found tears pouring out of his eyes and his shoulders shaking.

Tom Morrow moved his hand to the opposite shoulder, pulling the young agent into his side. At this moment, the Deputy Director of Homeland could actually shoot the old bastard if he were here. And his heart was breaking for the sobbing young man in his arms. He had been the Director of NCIS when Gibbs had started there under Franks.

And he had gotten to know the young man that Gibbs had taken under his wing when he had been assigned to RIMA to finish his enlistment. In the next two years, he had seen Gibbs boast to him and Franks about 'his boy' shining in the football and basketball at Ohio State. He had actually been to a game once, with both Gibbs and Franks. The three had proven his rocks. And they had all let him, after finding out the bastard Tony had the honour of calling his father.

They were the once who had helped him decide what he would do, when his knee had been destroyed in the match against the Wolverines. They had all been supportive when he had gone to the Police Acadamy, though all had been displeased when they had found out he went to Peoria, then Philly and then Baltimore.

It was there that Gibbs had drawn the line, when they had found out his partner was dirty. Gibbs had dragged him to NCIS, and Tom had allowed him to put Tony on his team. There was no blood relation after all. Plus, Tom knew that with all the crap Tony had had piled on him in those past six years, his faith was shaken. Tom had been quick to realize that only Gibbs would be able to restore that faith.

After six year of official abandonment, he had started to see Gibbs as his dad. A careful distinction of the moniker father, which was reserved for DiNozzo sr. And now, a parent once more left him behind.

Morrow cursed under his breath, he didn't know if Tony would ever recover from this. And he couldn't fall apart; he had to stay strong for his team. Weakness was not possible, or Jenny Shepherd would prey on him like the political predator she was.

"I got your six, kid," Tom spoke to the bereft man. "I promise, I'll always have your six, Tony."

The two men stayed on the sofa in that silent and dark house for the rest of the night. Not speaking, just drinking the rotgut bourbon that Gibbs always preferred. It was as the first rays of light started to appear over the rooftops that Tony extracted himself out of Tom's embrace.

"I've got to go to the office," Tony spoke lowly. "The team will be in, and they'll need me to watch out for them now."

"And who'll watch out for you?" Tom growled.

Tony smiled, and Morrow almost froze in his seat with it. It wasn't the usual DiNozzo smile. No this smile was sad and heart-breaking in its grief and loneliness.

"Guess I'll have to go back to watching my own, Uncle Morrow," he whispered forcing his tears back.

"The hell you do!" Tom spoke fiercely. "You call me, you hear me! I don't care what the hell it is for, but you will call me! If I hear nothing from you for over a week, I'll step into the bullpen. You got me?"

Tony nodded, before he slowly put himself on his feet. "Thank you for this," he spoke to the man seated on the sofa.

"I told you way back when, Tony," Tom stood up and grabbed the man's chin between his thumb and index finger. "You're his, so that makes you mine."

Tony's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Guess after all this crap, you now have sole custody."

Without waiting for a reply he made his ways up the stairs, to get a suit he knew was lying around in the guestroom somewhere.

Morrow wanted to wait until Tony was ready to leave, but a phone call of his Director made that impossible. Writing a quick note with another emphasis to call him whenever he needed to and reminding him once more of mandatory phone calls once a week, he stepped out into the morning air.

Giving the desolate house another glance, Tom cursed the fates that led to Tony's situation. Screw goddamn terrorists, screw amnesia and screw Leroy Jethro Gibbs who was a stubborn emotional stumped bastard. He just hoped he could keep the boy from self-destructing, but somehow he doubted it. And that was a thought that made him shiver all in itself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay; WOW! What a response, I was honestly overwhelmed and immediately inspired to post the next chapter. Not often do I get 26 reviews within 24 hours of posting a new story. So I hope I can keep you all with me, and I hop you'll all enjoy the new chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS, OTHERWISE MY NAME WOULD BE ON THE DISCLAIMERS EVERYWHERE ON THIS SITE.**

**As always; Read, enjoy and review!**

**Cjb1990**

* * *

Tony leaned back in Gibbs' chair. No that wasn't correct anymore; it was his chair, had been for the last month. He took a glance at the digital clock in the bottom corner of his screen. Dammit, it was already 2 am. With a shock he sat upright. Dammit! Tonight he was supposed to call Uncle Morrow!

With a small prayer to the ceiling, he took his cell and made the call.

"You're two hours over your deadline, kiddo," a low voice answered the phone.

"Yeah, I know. Damn paperwork. I swear it's like cockroaches, a freaking locust!" Tony complained to him.

A chuckle reached his ear. "Yeah, I feel for you. Because in my position I don't even have the luxury of shooting someone to vent my frustration over it."

"Plus you're too old to have a field position," Tony laughed, feeling more relax now that he was talking to family.

"Watch it, you're not too old for a spanking you know," Morrow growled back.

"Spare me, one was quite enough to last me a lifetime," Tony quickly backpedalled. He could vividly recall how Morrow had taken him over his knee when he was nineteen and his dad was on assignment in Paris. Never ever did he get another DUI, especially when he was still underage.

"That's what I thought," his uncle sounded way too smug for Tony's liking.

"So how's the orange working for you?" Morrow probed lightly.

"The orange is a soothing as any other day, which proves my conclusion that we're all insane that we find it soothing," Tony sighed deeply. "And there's a reason I'm still doing paperwork at 2 am."

"Yours?" Morrow demanded.

"Well, yes and no. Yes because I haven't yet delegated it to McGee, and no because officially it's SFA paperwork and that's not me anymore."

"And before that maybe paperwork?" Morrow could hear the omission as clear as day.

"There may have been a report or two that needed to be rewritten," Tony reluctantly conceded. "They're not exactly thrilled to have me as Team Lead, Uncle."

"No, they're not thrilled that Jethro abandoned you all, and you're the convenient target to show their displeasure," Morrow corrected the kid before he could go on into self-flagellation. "And how's Ms Scuito?"

"Her shrine of Gibbs is very impressive. Her Trainee stickers not so much," Tony sighed and closed his eyes. The reluctance of everyone to work with him as the new Team Lead was wearing on him. He was so tired, and besides the visits and calls from his uncle he had nothing to rely on. He was the rock, slowly being corroded by water and wind until there was nothing left to hold it together.

"Ah, hell kid," Tom Morrow sighed and leaned back in his own desk chair (although that one was a bit more imposing than Tony's chair. "You just can't catch a break can you?"

"Yeah," Tony snorted cynically. "And want to know what I found out today? Our dearly beloved director hasn't processed the retirement papers. She put him on all the leave he has accumulated in his times here. I think I can guess what that means," Tony chuckled bitterly. He really couldn't catch a break no.

"Well, you know one escape route that always will be available to you," Morrow tried to reassure Tony. "And want to know something else? If those two pull that one over you, my phone will be calling every office on the Hill."

Tony breathed out noisily. "Never knew you to be vindictive, Uncle."

"Don't be silly, Tony. I'm not vindictive; I'm an opportunist. If they screw over their own agent like that, I can grab the opportunity to steal their political cloud."

Tony laughed shocked at that. Yeah, that sounded exactly like the response he expected, but both men knew what was behind it all.

"Thanks, Tom," Tony merely whispered.

"Go home, son," Tom ordered him. "Try to get more than three hours sleep. I'll call you next week, or call me sooner."

"Yeah, thanks," Tony nodded, starting with the process to shut down his computer correctly.

"Keep your chin up," Tom spoke as a goodbye before the line went dead.

Tony stared at phone before he laid it down on his desk with a chuckle. For all the complaining his dad and uncle did how they were not alike, they had a scarily same way of ending a phone conversation.

He stood up and with a light moan stretched his muscles in his back. He had spent far too long behind his desk on the goddamn paperwork. Uncle Morrow was right, he decided. He couldn't be doing the paperwork for both the SFA and the SA position _and_ correct McGee's and Ziva's reports.

Plus, they really weren't cutting it with just the three of them. Ziva may have field experience as an assassin, but was still very inexperienced as an investigator. And the Probie was still to green, with only three years of law enforcement experience. He needed a fourth. With Gibbs there, Tony knew they could be a two-men team (hell they had been that for almost a year), and they would keep up, simply because they both had plenty of experience.

Tony frowned; he didn't want to think about his dad. He had pushed him deep down that first night, after the embarrassing break down he had all over Tom Morrow. The others had accused him of not caring about Gibbs being gone, but the truth was that he couldn't let himself think about it or he wouldn't be capable of working or basic functioning.

He steered his thoughts back to the problem at hand as he walked to the elevator. Should he request a Probie or a SFA? He knew he needed a SFA, someone with experience to help him support the team, who would help train both junior agents. But he knew McGee would start a mutiny.

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall of the elevator. He would go to Shepherd's office tomorrow morning, asking for the personnel files for available SFA's and maybe drop a hint of the disrespect the two junior agents were showing.

Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easy with the dilemma Tony was facing. When he finally fell in a fitful sleep (one that become all too common these days), he dreamed of the explosion that robbed him of his dad. He dreamed of the marble staircase he was pushed down from, when he had been twelve and disowned.

* * *

With a yelp he woke, breathing heavily as he tried to figure out why he woke. Only to moan pitiful as the sounds of his alarm clock filtered through his nightmare-addled brain. Another day at the office, he thought cynically. As he stood in his kitchen, waiting impatiently for the coffee to finish he noted with sardonic amusement he really became like both his dad and his father.

He had become Gibbs in the way he only lived for the job anymore, that and the copious amounts of coffee he needed to function. He became his father as he slowly lost his humoristic view on life. And that one scared him the most. Not only because he didn't want to become his father, but also because of how much impact he had allowed Gibbs to get in his life.

Nobody, he decided as he tore the coffee can from the machine, nobody would ever wield that much power over him ever again.

He had made quick way to the Navy Yard, being in this early did have his perks. Hardly any traffic was one, fresh coffee was another. He knew Shepherd would be in already, having a videoconference in fifteen minutes.

With a deep breath he fortified himself. He did not really have a good relationship with the new director. Although they bonded a bit over jokes in the hospital, she was grating on his nerves from the moment she arrived in the big office. Oh, he knew very well what history she had with his dad. Although Gibbs never told him, he knew his dad.

He had known his heart was somehow broken when he came back from Paris. Then with all the hints she dropped, plus the fact she was a redhead, it was not a hard puzzle for him to solve. She had chosen her career over his dad, and his happiness. It had showed him that she had trouble with recognizing the priorities in life.

He arrived at the outer door of her office. Without knocking, he walked in. As he expected, Cynthia wasn't in yet. Though he could hear the soft footfalls behind the double doors in front of him.

Well, all or nothing, he tried to pep himself up. He knocked softly, not about to start the meeting on the wrong foot.

"Come in," the director spoke in that soft carefully balanced voice of hers. Tony hated that voice, it reminded him too much of stepmom number 3. She had tried to convince him to fake his dad's signature for her with that voice.

"Agent DiNozzo," the surprise was easy to hear in her voice, and the slight tightening of her eyes told him she knew that as well.

"Good morning, Director," he nodded respectfully at her, making sure there was nothing to read from his body language or facial expressions.

"What can I do for you at this early hour?" ah, straight to the point. Imagining greeting your agents in a normal way.

"I know you have a videoconference later on, but I was hoping you'd have a minute to discuss the team with me," Tony made sure he was standing stiff straight.

"What about the team?" oh, her voice was a still lake now; no expression whatsoever.

"The fact that I can no longer carry two junior agents with limited experience and fulfil the duties I have as Team Leader and SFA," Tony paused, both weighing his next words and allowing his words to sink in. "I need a SFA."

There the high word was out.

"What about McGee?" Shepherd demanded.

"What about Agent McGee, ma'am?" Tony couldn't help the dig at her. He knew what she meant. But she knew as well as himself those two years as junior agent was not enough experience to become Senior Field Agent. Especially considering he had no field experience whatsoever before his position on Gibbs' team.

"Why not Agent McGee as you SFA, Tony?" ah, so suave and persuasive was what she was going for now, hence her use of his first name.

"I would not be able to delegate all the work he would be responsible for, and have him as a contributing investigative member," Tony remained calm.

"I disagree," she responded. "You were only with Jethro for six months after all, before he promoted you to that spot."

"I had six years of law enforcement under my belt before I joined NCIS, director," Tony parried. "Agent McGee's experience only goes so far as his years under Gibbs and me."

"But that would be a big disruptive influence on the team, wouldn't you agree?"

"At the beginning, maybe. But any new team member, be it a superior or a junior agent will influence the dynamics within a team, ma'am," Tony had more and more trouble to remain the calm Team Leader he tried to portray himself as.

His eyes bored into the director's. She was hiding something, she needed something. It was the only explanation why she was interfering so with his team.

"McGee should be presented with a chance, Agent DiNozzo. You'll get a probationary agent for your team, with enough agency experience," Shepherd decided firmly. "Now if you will excuse me, that earlier mentioned videoconference is about to begin. I'm expected at M-TAC."

As she strode by, Tony couldn't help but do a small perfunctorily little bow.

He left the office on her heels, his mind spinning. He knew he would be calling Tom Morrow sooner that next week. The chess pieces were being aligned by Jenny Shepherd, but to what end? He didn't know, but his gut told him it would mean bad things all around for the MCRT.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still don't own NCIS, unfortunately. Did you see this week's episode about RMA, though? Loved it, and superb acting from Mr. Weatherly! Won't say anything more in case some people haven't had a chance to watch it yet.**

**As Always, I hope you like the new chapter and don't forget to review. I love the response this story's getting by you readers!**

* * *

The MCRT was once again the subject of fervent whispers throughout NCIS. This time, it had to do with McGee's promotion to SFA. A lot of agents felt cheated that someone with only two years of field experience was presented the opportunity without them having it as well.

Tony had felt many a dark look at his back the entire week. This, while all the time McGee was strutting around like a peacock. He had slowly started to give McGee the SFA paperwork, but it was proving difficult. With snide comments and little jabs, McGee made it perfectly clear that he thought Tony was unloading his own paperwork on him.

Tony had enough today. He had taken McGee for a cup of coffee, something the younger man had snorted at, to let him know exactly how disrupting his behaviour was. He explained how precarious the position of the MCRT was in the agency, and what his smug behaviour caused to other more experienced agents.

McGee was taken aback.

"McGee, it is a shot you have here," Tony sighed. "As SFA, you cannot act towards me the way we did in the past. Same as I cannot act the same way towards you. Many an agent is pissed off. You only have two years of field experience, others have a lot more and came from a much more compatible background. Don't alienate the entire office because you made SFA."

"But, I'm the best for the job," McGee argued. "Why would you give me the job otherwise?"

"I have faith in you, McGee," Tony evaded the question. "But that doesn't mean that you have nothing left to learn, or that the job isn't harder than I made it look. You need the help of the other SFA's, and strutting around with a superiority complex to your Team Lead or the other SFA's wouldn't help you."

"Right," McGee's voice made clear how much he doubted Tony's advice. "Thanks for the coffee, Tony."

Tony sighed and put a tired hand against his brow. His world was crumbling around him, and the only thing that stood steadfast was his Uncle and his faith in him. He wouldn't know how he could have managed the last five weeks without him. He had called him immediately when he came home after his disturbing meeting with Shepherd.

That Tom Morrow had been worried would be an understatement. He had been downright suspicious about Jenny Shepherd's motives for not listening to her MCRT lead agent. He had agreed with Tony that something was in the works, but he couldn't get what.

* * *

It was a Sunday that Jenney called him into work. And yes, the team was on call, but so far no phone call had come from dispatch to inform him of a crime scene.

"Tony, please sit down," Jenny directed him to the comfortable chairs in the corner of her office.

Tony reluctantly sat down, almost bouncing his knee in anticipation what would happen.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Jenny offered him in a soft and alluring voice.

"No, thank you director," Tony's voice was polite and somewhat cool, not allowing himself to fall in the pit of familiarity with this barracuda.

"Tony, I have a long-term assignment I need to discuss with you. Before I tell you anything, I must impress on you that this information is need-to-know," Jenny's lips curved the smallest bit in a smile.

Tony had to give it to the woman; she was very good at this. He could see why she was so successful as the director of NCIS, she understood the political game and must have been an excellent undercover agent in her days.

"Of course director," Tony assured her. "I understand."

Jenny Shepherd handed him a file, which Tony opened. He saw the picture of a very striking and beautiful woman.

"She's pretty," Tony noted carefully, not liking the direction this was heading at all.

"I'm glad you think so," Jenny smiled satisfied. "Her name is Jeanne Benoit, daughter of Rene Benoit, also known as La Grenouille."

"This is the daughter of The Frog?" Tony's eyebrows rose perfunctorily.

"I want you to get close to her," Jenny spoke softly, carefully. "Your name would be Tony DiNardo, a professor in movie history at the online university."

"You want me to date her?" Tony's hazel eyes were ice cold as he stared his director fearlessly in the eye.

"Yes," jenny spoke without hesitation. "You are excellent in undercover operations, Tony. Surely this would be in your realm of capabilities? I would prefer a seasoned agent for this, that has sufficient undercover experience."

Tony looked at the file for a second, while his brain was working at top speed. Oh, she had played the game very nastily. Tony had grown up within the rich elite of Long Island, he could pick up the political game like no other. And Jenny, he had to admit, was a master in it.

Nothing she said to him had been untoward – well except ordering him to pimp himself out – but he understood with perfect clarity what she had meant.

That's the reason why she was so determined to make Tim my SFA, he thought with blazing rage coursing through his veins. If I refuse, the op goes to my SFA. And Tim would be made within the month. Dammit, he snarled mentally.

"When will this operation start?" Tony made sure nothing in his body language or facial expression would betray him at all.

"This afternoon, she works as a doctor at the University hospital in Georgetown," Jenny explained. "I suggest you start there."

Tony was not a person who could easily hate, but in this very moment he hated his director with every part of his being.

"Who would be my back-up? The team?" Tony made sure to keep talking in 'woulda's' and 'what-ifs', to make sure nothing in his questions and answers could be an implied acceptance to the mission.

"This is a need-to-know operation, Agent DiNozzo," Jenny's voice sounded stern and harsh. "My secondary private line has been programmed in your cover's cell. I keep it on me at all times, so I will receive your distress signal if needed."

With those words Jenny handed him the other file, which was filled with the details of the cover she'd set up. In three minutes Tony was standing on the mezzanine, looking at the deserted bullpen. His mind was reeling, and he felt panic start to rise in his chest. He knew one thing; he needed Morrow's advice, now.

Thankfully, he had been able to reach his uncle and was now waiting at the old-fashioned coffee shop that the older man always used for off the record meetings.

"Tony," the silver-haired man greeted the agent with a smile. "I was surprised to hear from you."

"Yeah," Tony chuckled anxiously, immediately setting Tom on edge.

"What's wrong, kid?" Tom demanded.

Tony looked his uncle in the eye. He never had been ordered to keep silent like this, and didn't now if he could truly betray his director like that. Even if she was blackmailing him in a very nasty fashion.

"Let's just say," Tony hesitated. "Let's just say I just found out why McGee was made SFA."

Tom's eyebrows rose at that. Tony was not one to evade questions like that. At least not with those he trusted personally (at the moment that sadly included only him).

"Can you elaborate?" Tom was careful. He realized that Tony needed to keep himself on a very fine line of keeping the oath he swore.

"The director, well," Tony smiled bitterly. "She made me an offer I can't refuse."

Tom swore loudly, catching the attention of the other eaters at the diner. He hadn't been director for as long as he was without speaking non sequitur like a pro. He got it alright, and at the moment he was regretting his decision to appoint the woman as director.

"Is it safe?" Tom knew he could not know the details, but the fact that Shepherd had felt the need to have such an ace up her sleeve told him that whatever she wanted Tony to do, was not on the up-and-up.

"Was the director a good agent in the day?" Tony smiled at the waitress who brought him a coffee.

Tom's face resembled a dark thundercloud now, realizing what Tony was trying to say to him. He didn't have any back up but her.

"As an undercover agent, she and agent Gibbs were a good team," he allowed.

"Paris, right?" Tony nodded at the man. "Never knew she remained sentimental about more men than just Gibbs from that time."

Tom tried to follow, realizing it had to do something with France and a man.

"Well, you have to ask Gibbs about the details of what happened, but I do know that Jenny always cherished her career," Tom took a bite of the piece of pie in front of him.

Tony smiled at the other man, glad he was willing to work around his limitations with him.

"Yeah, guess she was a real pistol back in the day," Tony chuckled, hoping he caught the hint.

Pistol? Tom thought furtively, guns? Weapons? Crap! A French guys and weapons had to mean French arms dealer. The only one he could think that would be on her radar would be the Frog.

"Well," Tom chuckled as well. "Redhead, so yeah. Besides, Paris is the city of romance you know."

"Hmm," Tony pursed his lips. "Maybe I should try out a French girl."

Tom smiled warmly at the man on the other side of the table. "You do that, don't forget to introduce her if it lasts more than a night."

"I will, Uncle Tom," Tony smiled, beyond relief to have this man to watch his six. It was clear he had no one left at NCIS that would do so, so to have the Deputy Director of Homeland watching out for him was an immense relief.

The two men ate their pie and left to go their own way. Tom watched as Tony drove off in his Mustang.

Sitting in his own car, Tom immediately started a phone call. He knew that he could not e Tony's back up by himself. And by God, he would make sure the kid came through this alive. Even if he knew that Tony would want to strangle him for what he was about to do.

"Fornell?" he asked as the man on the other line picked up. "Tom Morrow here. I'm cashing in on that favour."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Can i just say WOW? What a response this story generates. Yes, Gibbs will appear back on the scene pretty soon. This chapter is setting up some stuff that's needed for the coming chapters.**

**Someone commented that he/she would let McGee take the fall he deserved. Maybe so, but Tony never was like that. It showed in the way he handled his departure in the canon from Baltimore PD. He would sooner left LE, than give up Danny as dirty. He was a cop, to have your partner's back ALWAYS is pretty much ingrained into his entire personality. Plus, he still deals with a lot of issues (that aren't really diminished by Gibbs' sudden departure) that makes him believe in the credo 'better me than him'.**

**If you guys want a more detailed psycho-analysis of TOny and how i perceive, fill free to PM me**

**As last thing: READ ENJOY and don't forget to REVIEW!**

**Cjb1990**

* * *

Tony looked from the corner of his eye at the beautiful woman at his side. Any other day, he would've been ecstatic to have her on her arm. But not today, because this day it wasn't Tony DiNozzo that had her on his arm, but professor DiNardo.

It had been two weeks since the start of the operation, and it had been exhausting. He had a full caseload to deal with, complaining SFA's from other teams, the bitching from his own team, the new probie agent Lee and in between all that he was wooing and lying to a very nice and intelligent woman.

He had been in contact with Uncle Tom a lot more these days, mostly texting locations. It made him feel a bit more comfortable that at least he knew where he was.

The two were slowly walking along the sidewalk back to the hospital Jeanne worked at from a little café near it. Tony listened as Jeanne was describing the fall out two nurses had over the same guy. Tony chuckled softly, he really couldn't help but like Jeanne. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, because she had no idea at what level she was getting played here.

"Antonio!" a voice sounded from behind him, that he recognized only too well. Tony stiffened.

Jeanne pulled at his arm to turn him around. There in front of him stood Tobias Fornell. Now, he didn't particularly dislike the FBI agent (although he still had some rancor for him over the whole severed legs and Chuck, being accused for murder debacle).

"Well, would you look at that," he chuckled; firmly believing his cover was about to be blown spectacularly.

"Antonio, nice meeting you outside the workplace," Fornell gave a small smile, looking at Jeanne who was looking on curiously.

"Ah, yes," Tony did a small jump, as if he just realized he should introduce the two.

"Jeanne, this is Toby MacMore," Tony couldn't help but cast a mischievous look at the Fib. "He's teaching an accounting course the university. Toby, this is dr Jeanne Benoit, my-"

"His very attractive partner on this walk," Toby cut in, saving Tony from making his assignment even more uncomfortable."

"Well, aren't you a charmer," Jeanne laughed lightly. "It's nice to meet you, Toby MacMore."

"Likewise," Tobias shook her hand. "You guys busy, or can we continue on with a cup of coffee."

"Actually, I really need to get back to work," Jeanne took a step forward, letting her hand linger in Tony's. "Call me when you're done?"

"Absolutely," Tony smiled at her, giving her a kiss.

"Alright you," Fornell cut in. "Not in front of the elderly."

Tony laughed out loud at hearing that, considering he always called Fornell that as a joke. To hear it come from his mouth, was pretty damn funny.

"You're words, Toby, not mine," Tony grinned.

"Yeah, yeah," Fornell grumbled.

Jeanne smiled and walked away briskly. As soon as she was out of sight, Tony's face turned angry and he turned around to face Fornell.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he grumbled dangerously.

"What?" Fornell snorted. "Well known undercover agent from NCIS is seen cavorting with The Frog's daughter, and you think other agencies are not going to stagger on their hind legs?"

"What?" Tony's frown turned confused.

"You didn't really think NCIS was the only after the guy, were you?" Fornell stared hard at Tony. "DiNutzo, you and your director are kicking a hornest nest that is bigger than either of you can anticipate."

"Fantastic," Tony's hand buried itself in his hair. "I take it that this is a not so much sanctioned op then?"

"I would think not, no," Fornell snorted. "But you already knew that, didn't you? What kind of operation would use pimping out its agents for the cause? So, why did you do it?"

"You do know that McGee has been promoted to be my SFA, right?"

"Oh," Fornell grimaced. "Oh, that's nasty."

"Yeah," Tony snorted. "McProbie may be a guy with a lot of potential, but undercover is not one of them."

"Using your probie against you," Fornell commented. "That's low. No wonder Tom called me."

Tony looked at him with sharp turn of his head. "Tom called you?"

"Tony, I think Gibbs had the right thought with hitting you on the head repeatedly," Fornell commented drily. "You really think Tom wouldn't call in certain markers to cover your ass. Because this thing is going to blow sooner or later. And the director will be caught in the blast wave. Now, who do you think she's going to drag down with her?"

"I hate politics," Tony said with a deep sincere disgust.

"You and me both," Fornell hit his arm in goodbye. As he walked away he turned around. "So, want to play pool with your colleague from accounting next Friday?"

"Sounds a little bit like a cop show," Tony called after him.

"Sure," Fornell shouted back. "There'll be beer, peanuts and I'll even buy your girl a cocktail."

Tony gave him a one-finger salute before walking back to his car.

* * *

He stopped his car at the impressive building and showed is credentials. He had had a busy day, but couldn't postpone any longer for his sanity's sake. It took some time, but finally he stood in front of an assistant.

"Sir, there's an agent DiNozzo here to see you," she spoke into the intercom.

"Send him in," the deep voice sounded through the speaker.

He held up his hand. "I can make my way in, thanks."

She smiled and sat back on her chair, while he marched through the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he managed to keep his voice at a reasonable level, but couldn't keep the rage out of it.

The woman at the desk looked surprised at the anger, before the door closed behind the handsome agent.

"Sit down Tony," Tom Morrow instructed the younger man.

"The hell I will," Tony seethed. "Fornell, Uncle Tom? You flipped to Fornell?"

"Mind your tone boy," Tom barked. "Of course I did. Do you know how long he and I are working here in DC? He's one of my oldest acquaintances here in Washington. If you think that I won't call in any marker that is necessary to keep your ass alive and ready for action, you have another thing coming!"

Tony sat down in the soft leather chair. "But the FBI?"

Tom sat on the chair next to his. "Listen son. I did some digging. And there is no way that this op is sanctioned. That means that it's your ass on the line when things come to blow. And I'll like it if the blow would only be figuratively. I cannot be your second set eyes 24/7. I needed someone I trusted to look after you when I can't. And right now, the best option for that is Tobias."

Tony sighed and leaned back, massaging his temples with his forefingers. "God, it's just … I really hate owing him a favour."

"Yeah, any outstanding marker always suck and comes up at the most inopportune moments," Tom agreed. "But this won't be a big one. He still owed me pretty big, so-"

The words floated into the silence. In his heart, Tony felt warmed that Tom would use his markers for covering his ass.

"Anything else that's bothering you?" Tom asked shrewdly. He had seen how the double job was wearing the man down. Already he could see the man had lost some weight, and his forehead was creased with stress lines.

"No, yeah. I don't know," Tony sighed and opened his eyes. "It's this last case. It just doesn't sit well with me. There was something there, but everything points to this pretty open and shut ending."

"Too easy?" Tom asked knowingly.

Tony nodded.

"Son, sometimes cases really are that easy. Because of the convoluted lines we have to follow 99% of the time, that last one per cent never sits well with us."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Tony acknowledged reluctantly. If he had been Gibbs, he would have said his gut was churning.

"How's McGee working out for you?" Tom inquired.

"He managed to piss off Margaret," Tony informed him. "It's his own fault really. He has been pretty obnoxious, especially towards the other SFA's."

"So, they weren't inclined to inform him how he should handle Marge," Tom grinned and shook his head.

"Set me back $30 for flowers or we wouldn't have enough mags in our desks," Tony sighed.

"He'll never learn if you keep doing this," Tom warned.

"We will be put off rotation if I wouldn't do so," Tony rebuked. "And who do you think would catch the flock from the director over that one?"

"Resign," Tom offered him, the kid would break down within half a year of this crap.

"I can't," Tony shook his head. "I can't abandon Abby and Ducky, Palmer-"

"The way he did to you, you mean?" Tom finished.

A stubborn look appeared on the Italian's face.

"You're not him, Tony," Tom pressed on. "Even if you'd walk away, you wouldn't be him. Ever."

"Yeah, I'm not Gibbs," Tony spoke scathily. "Trust me you don't have to tell me. Everyone is reminding me often enough."

Tom stood up and walked to his oak liquor cabinet. He poured out two tumblers of expensive amber scotch. Walking back he handed one to the agent.

"Now, I know it isn't dime a dozen bourbon," Tom spoke up. "But it's pretty good."

Tony raised his glass in salute and took a sip. He sighed as the scotch glided smoothly down his throat to warm his stomach.

"By the way," Tom sipped on his own scotch. "It was meant as the highest of compliments. I meant to say that you don't break promises."

Together, the two men sat in a darkening office. The world was closing in on them; chess pieces were put in position to slaughter one of them. But there in the dark office, sitting in brown leather chairs, Tony found a peace he hadn't felt in two months.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for not updating for such a long time. I had some trouble with this chapter, not knowing how to integrate the episode into the chapter. So I decided to leave most of it out. For those that expected it, I'm sorry. But I decided to focus more on Tony and Tom. I really like the idea of Tom stepping up to the plate, while Gibbs is AWOL and disappointing (and he was that for me, especially in the beginning of season 4).**

**Anyway, hope you like it! And as always Read, Enjoy and Review!**

**Cjb1990**

* * *

Tony looked at the rest of his team in autopsy. He felt relieved that any one of them was willing to help him, and help Ziva. Although he was pretty pissed to hear that she called in Gibbs before she went to him, to the team. But it couldn't be helped.

Before they could discuss what they would be doing, and how to evade the FBI (not that Tobias and him hadn't already sussed that one out with a few moments of eye contact), Tony's phone rang. He looked at his screen and winced.

"I gotta take this," he said to his team before answering his phone.

"Hey ya," he greeted the other person, without using a name.

"Any particular reason an agent of your team is on my wanted list, son?" Tom's voice barked down the other line.

"Because the FBI are a bunch of idiots that can't smell set up?" Tony barked right back.

"You sure about this son?"

"These are the same people that thought me capable of killing women and dissecting them, leaving their body parts in the woods," Tony shot right back. "Yeah, I wouldn't bet on them."

"Touche," Tom chuckled. "Okay, look; I'll give you as much head way as I possibly can."

"How much is that?" Tony asked, warmth spreading in his gut.

"I don't know, two hours tops per lead, I imagine," Tom responded in his usual caustic way.

"We can work with that," Tony sighed. "Fornell will give us some leeway as well. That'll hopefully be enough space to work in."

"Guide them through it, kid," Tom chuckled.

Tony snorted, yeah like that'll happen with Gibbs around. "Oh before you go…"

"What," Tom sounded wary.

"Your brother's back in town," Tony hung up with those words, knowing Tom would get it with a few minutes.

He turned around and saw the rest of the team looking at him suspiciously.

"Who was that?" Abby demanded frustrated.

"Contact at Homeland," Tony answered tersely, no need for them to know how high his contact was placed in the organization. The last few months showed he probably was better off at Homeland. And he was tired, oh so tired of working undercover and leading MCRT. Even though he now had almost proper back up, it still meant that he was doing night observations for Jenny, while making eighteen hour days as the team lead.

Tom had been on his ass for weeks now, saying that he was burning himself out with this rate. It was surprising that Ducky hadn't joined that parade yet, but on the other hand, he hadn't been concerned for his health since he'd been promoted to team lead. The truth of it sucked. The only true friend he still had within the soothing orange walls was the Autopsy Gremlin.

And now, Gibbs was back. Meaning that he would no longer be necessary. And he knew how Shepherd would play it with her elongated fingernails clawing into him. She would make something up, and with the rebellious attitude of his team mates, Gibbs and the faulty wiring that functioned as his brain and memory for the moment would believe it all. It would isolate him from the team.

Tony made a decision right on the spot as he stared sternly at Abby. As soon as Gibbs kicked him back to his 'rightful place' and do a demoting stunt all around, he'd sprint all the way to Tom and Homeland.

"He promised me to hold them off as much as possible, considering our little ninja just made their wanted list as well," Tony explained to Abby.

"How'd you get contacts at Homeland?" McGee's face showed the extreme surprise and confusion, that frankly was insulting to Tony.

"Oh, I don't know Tim," Tony glared at him. "Maybe a career in law enforcement that stretches back to '95?"

"Right," McGee backpeddled a bit.

Tony sighed, still that goddamn arrogance issue that needed to be stomped down. He finally managed to not piss off the other SFA's, but that didn't mean they were on good terms. Many still complained to Tony about the attitude his second had, and it was starting to majorly piss off Tony as well.

Abby wasn't finished though, still staring at him with slits for eyes.

"And that bit about Fornell?" she interrogated him.

"Look, Fornell knows I trust her, so he'll back down. Can't say anything for the rest of the FBI, but Fornell has our back," Tony said to her, not bothering to further explain himself.

"So, how are we going to find a way out of this one?" leaning over the autopsy table, he brought their secret meeting back to the point.

* * *

Across town, Tom was leaning back into his chair with a hand rubbing over his face. He had understood Tony perfectly well, and it didn't comfort him one single bit.

Besides the fact that Tony's team apparently didn't trust him enough to clear this up by himself, the terse tone Tony used told him that it wasn't that warm father figure that had returned. Instead, he probably got a boozed up version with a faulty memory.

Tom suppressed the urge to bring out his scotch in the middle of the day. That man was going to destroy that boy. And he wouldn't even realize what he'd done before it would be far too late. He could only hope that Tony would be smarter than more loyal, and abandon the sinking ship. But, he knew, that would only be a fool's hope.

Tom spend the rest of the next two days playing defense for Tony and his wayward team. In the end, it was made clear that it was indeed a set-up to make Mossad look like an malicious killing machine. In his experience, Mossad could be that, but that was another story. The Iranians had played it smart. It was only by some off the books work of Gibbs and Ziva that made it happen.

It was late at night and he was about to leave the office when he received a text. It was from Tony and very short: 'Mine, pizza, booze?'

Without any hesitation, Tom stepped into his car and made his way over. As he stood in front of the apartment door, he could hear the heavy tones of Rachmaninoff come his way. Not a good day for the kid as well, he thought idly and knocked loudly on the door.

Tony opened up and almost fell into his Uncle's arms. To be confronted with the hostile, not-remembering twin of his dad on top of his exhaustion had been a grueling experience.

"No memory, then?" Tom confirmed his suspicion.

"He hates me now," Tony almost choked on the words, as the truth was wrenched from his throat.

Tom's arms tightened around him, trying to hide him from the world. But it was no use, considering that truth was right there inside his head and heart. The man, his dad, didn't want anything to do with him and saw him as a failure, just like his father did.

"Let's go inside, kid," Tom urged him as they stood there for a few minutes.

Tony heaved a deep breath and stepped out of the embrace. Closing the door behind them both, he followed his uncle to the living room. The pizza and some beers were already waiting for the two men.

"Where is he now?" Tom asked, as he threw down his napkin into the empty pizza box.

"Back to the Coronas and Mike's hot tub," Tony replied, his voice a hollow mockery of his normal tone.

"Tony," Tom sighed forcing the other man to look up. "This has got to stop. You're killing yourself! If it isn't because of a bullet one of these days, it'll be you collapsing out of sheer exhaustion. You aren't an almighty deity! You're no God! You can't do everything at once. So, _please_, take a step back and take a few breaths."

Tony smiled wanly, as if he could actually do that! He thought derisively. "And how am I going to manage that? Jenny has me by the balls, Tom. And she knows it too. She'll work me to death before she'll let me take a step back."

"I swear, that woman," Tom growled. "What is her problem with you?"

"My guess?" Tony snorted. "She didn't like the relation I had with 'her' Jethro. I was closer to him than she ever was. So to be precise; the green monster."

"God," Tom sighed. "This is the reason why I liked NCIS, more men to worry about than evil conspiring bitches."

Tony chuckled at that and downed his beer. He sighed, he should go to bed, this Saturday night was undercover weekend again and he needed his sleep, considering the team was on call Sunday. Why Jenny decided to do both in one weekend was a mystery, unless she actually wanted to work him literally to the bone.

"I should get some sleep," Tony sighed. "It's double trouble weekend coming up."

Tom made a noise in the back of his throat that showed exactly what he thought of that, nonetheless he stood up.

"When are you doing your extracurriculae?" he asked as he embraced the younger man once again.

"Saturday night," Tony responded. "Surveillance."

"Any other party goers?" Tom looked him in the eye.

Tony immediately averted his eyes to look over Tom's shoulder, which was answer enough for the Deputy Director.

"Right," Tom was getting exasperated with the incompetence that Jenny Shepherd was showing in the Director's Seat. What Tony didn't know, was that he was carefully keeping record of all the failures of the woman. It was always useful information to have.

"I call Tobias," Tom's voice made certain that Tony was not protesting the idea without painful repercussions.

"Okay," Tony's face wrinkled, to show how big a fan he was of the idea. "But he had a busy couple of days as well, considering he was leading the FBI investigation of this little clusterfuck."

"He'll do it, Tony," Tom reassured him. "He hates this situation just as much as I do."

With those words, Tom gathered his coat and made his way to the door.

"Tony," Tom decided to try one more time. "The memory of your dad isn't worth your life. If the man is gone with the explosion, let him go. And grieve for him." Without waiting for response, Tom let himself out.

Tony sank back on the couch. Grieve for him? Jethro Gibbs wasn't dead!

_Or maybe_, a small but traitorously persistent voice in the back of his head spoke up,_ the Jethro Gibbs that was your dad was really dead?_

* * *

**Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: sorry for the long wait for the update, but I did had a lovely holiday!**

**this chapter takes place after the bastardly return of Gibbs. Things really start to get going now, and I hope you'll like it!**

**don't forget the second r in r n r, i really like to hear what you guys think!**

**enjoy!**

**cjb1990**

* * *

It was late at night and Tony was staring at the four desks in the MCRT bullpen. The setting was drastically different from what it had been over the last four months. Michelle Lee, their neurotic probie from legal, had been chased away with her tail between her legs by the big bad wolf. Ziva had been smiling broadly as she had sauntered out of the office home. McGee had only been ecstatic to move back to his old desk. Tony, however, was still staring at the pile of belongings that scattered his new old desk.

He knew throughout the case Gibbs would be back. He didn't blame Fornell for wanting the old bastard's help. It had been about Emily, so there shouldn't be any apologies whatsoever. Nobody's feelings mattered when it came to the safety of your own child. Fornell, however, did cast some apologetic glances his way, but with a small narrowing of the eyes, Tony had made clear that he thought it ridiculous. Emily came first, no questions asked.

But this? This blatant disregard for everything that Tony had done, had tried to do and the position he was in, that was something he hadn't anticipated. He sighed, he knew what he had promised himself. And he knew he was going to stick with it. He didn't, couldn't care anymore. There was only one person he trusted to have his six anymore, and he didn't reside in the Navy Yard.

He grabbed a cardboard box to make sure everything he owned was inside, before turning his attention towards his computer. He rubbed roughly over his face with both hands. Six years, he had managed to stay here for six years. But this was it, he would leave the place he thought held his home and family. Uncle Tom had been right, he reflected. He had to consider his dad dead. The air was pushed out of his lungs, as an acute wave of grief came over him. His dad was dead. His eyes were stinging as tears tried to make an appearance, but he refused to let them fall where he was on show for all agents to see.

Tony forced his fingers to type out the required words. He didn't lie about the job offer he was taking, he knew Tom had a spot open for him whenever he wished to make the switch. He printed the letter twice; once for the director, and one for Gibbs. Walking up to pick up the papers, he quickly shot a text to the old man; _I'm yours_. It was all that was necessary, Tom would know what he meant.

He glanced over his resignation letter, his eyes catching the strong phrases he used, such as 'unreconciliable gaps of moral' and 'the opportunity presented to good to miss', 'no empty spaces left on the team were knowledge seemed to be missing'. Tim McGee could be Gibbs' SFA. He had never been Gibbs' SFA, ha had been his dad's.

He quickly put the letters in separate envelopes. He penned his dad's name on one and dropped it on the Team Leader's desk, no longer his. The other held the hated phrase 'Madam Director', he couldn't let the opportunity pass him to give the bitch a right hook on the way out.

As he walked into the ante chamber, he was surprised to see Cynthia still there. The woman looked at him with a warm smile, that held sympathy for his plight. Cynthia had seen another side of their director these passed months, and hadn't liked what that meant. She was one of the staunch supporters Tony had in this place, but she was still very new.

"She's still in, Tony," she spoke warmly. "You can go ahead."

Tony smiled, even though he was anything but happy about it. He didn't want to see Jenny Shepherd here, he had just wanted to drop of the letter. Well, he knew he should do it in person. Now was as good a time as any.

"Agent DiNozzo," Shepherd greeted him, "what brings you here at this hour?"

"Director," Tony nodded at the woman he had come to hate over the last few months. "I'm only here to drop this off."

He dropped the letter on her desk, not able to bring up the courtesy to hand it to her. He was done. Done with her, done with Gibbs, done with the whole goddamn agency.

Shepherd had lifted her eyebrow at his action, before gingerly picking up the envelop. Ripping it open, her eyes flitted through his words. When she was finished she looked up to him, her expression dark and hateful.

"What makes you think you can resign, Agent DiNozzo?" her voice was soft and calm, making it all the more dangerous to Tony's well-honed ears.

"I'm sorry, Director," Tony's voice was flat and emotionless, "I thought I resided in the United States of America, where slavery has been abolished for well over a century."

Shepherd flushed a bright red. "Of course! You really want to compare your services to slavery, DiNozzo?"

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, "If you refuse to let me go, Director, you will be forcing me into a job against my will."

The Director leaned back into her chair, her face returning to the smooth mask. "Tony, is this because of Jethro's actions?"

God lady, he though viciously, how malleable do you think me? His face and eyes didn't betray his anger.

"Not exactly," Tony answered smoothly. "Deputy Director Morrow approached me a week ago, after Agent Gibbs returned to help with the FBI's suspicion of Officer David. He had heard of my promotion to Team Leader, although I guess we can now call that a bit of an exaggeration, and thought Agent Gibbs had already returned to his former position. He offered me a senior position with Homeland. Now that Agent Gibbs has returned, I will not be leaving the MCRT in a lurch. As you have been emphasizing and declaring that Agent McGee is ready for a senior position on the team, there will be no problems with my departure from the team."

Tony could easily read the thoughts from Jenny's face. When he parroted her words about McGee, he could basically see the steam coming from her ears. He knew that McGee would be eaten alive by an angry Gibbs. He also knew that she could no longer blackmail him with his probie, now that Gibbs was back. He would know within a day if McGee was picked for an undercover op. Yes, Gibbs would keep the rest of the team safe. It was him who had the bulls eye painted on the back of his head.

"What about your _other_ responsibilities?"Jenny asked in an unassuming tone.

"Well," Tony responded in the same voice, "as I no longer am part of NCIS, it would be unethical to be part of one of its operations without informing my superiors at Homeland Security."

Ha, Tony thought, as if he doesn't already know. But the threat was clear, push and he will push back.

He stared her straight in the eyes as Jenny slowly rose from her chair. The small upturn of her lips made him feel uneasy.

"If we do not extract you from the undercover identity _very_ carefully, Agent DiNozzo, accidents do tend to happen."

Tony stared her straight in the eyes as his mind froze. Would she really go that far? He could read it easily in her eyes, o yes she would.

"Well, by any means," Tony spoke, weighing his words carefully, "I need to take a week off, considering I will not be allowed to take up all my leave as payment."

It seemed as if Tony conceded victory to the woman across the desk, and the smug satisfied smile on her face showed she thought this as well.

"Of course," she replied with false warmth, "you will be back on the Monday after?"

Tony nodded with a small self-deprecating smile. He had always excelled in subterfuge and making people underestimate him. He knew he had to talk to Uncle Tom, and fast. He suspected that Jenny would keep an eye on his phone, whether she was allowed to or not.

"Good night, Director," he nodded his head a bit deeper in adieu.

"Good night, Tony," the smile was easily recognizable in her voice, but it was not kindness but smugness that caused it.

Goddamn bitch! He seethed as he walked out of her office. He smiled genuinely to Cynthia and made his way back to his desk.

Five minutes later he was at his car, he hadn't bothered to arrange his desk. On the way home, he stopped at the convenience store around the corner of his apartment building. He opened the glove compartment and found the roll of bills he kept there as an emergency stash. Lifting a hundred bucks from it, he quickly walked in and bought a case of beer and a burn phone.

He had to down two beers before he stopped shaking. He entered the number he knew by heart and kept the phone by his ear.

"Who's this?" the acerbic bark was like the sweetest symphony to his ears.

"Uncle Tom?" Tony could hear his voice crack with the suppressed tears.

"Tony?" Tom's voice switch immediately to a gruff concerned tone.

"I tried to quit," he whispered.

"… Tried?" Tom probed.

"She won't let me go," tears finally made their appearance.

It was silent for a few heartbeats before Tony could hear his uncle curse fluently and expressively.

"I'll be over as soon as possible," his uncle promised him.

It was an hour later that Tony could hear the perfunctory knock on his door. Without bothering to check who it was he opened the door. The older man with the angry expression was not the one who he was expecting.

"What are you doing here?" Tony demanded.

"I find this on my desk, DiNozzo?" the envelop was thrown into his face, barely missing his eye. "You quitting one me?"

Gibbs tried to force his way into the apartment, but Tony didn't budge.

"Gibbs, you have no right to keep me when I have the opportunity to grow and further my career. The team will function well enough until you can find a new fourth member. Agent McGee is good enough to step into the job of SFA."

"You will not walk away," Gibbs pushed Tony into his apartment with force.

"Jethro Gibbs!" a new voice barked down the hallway. Tom Morrow came walking up with a thunderous expression on his face. "You will unhand my agent immediately, or I will arrest you for harassment and abuse of a federal agent."

Tony sighed and pushed Gibbs out of his apartment. Gibbs, shocked to see his old director in front of him outside of DiNozzo's door, went calmly. Tom sidestepped Gibbs and walked up to Tony.

"Go home, Gibbs," Tony ordered the man in front of him. Grief stabbed his chest viciously, the man in front of him was a stranger. "You can call McGee to give him the good news."

Tony turned around and walked into his home without looking back. It took everything to keep on walking, when the ghost of his dad was hovering at his doorstep. Tom grabbed the door and closed it, looking at Gibbs with contempt.

"The boy is an exemplary agent, you really think I would not try to pick him up? You just gave me the prefect opportunity."

Gibbs could only stare as the man closed the door silently. His gut was screaming at him that there was a lot more going on in DC than he could remember, or that the other members of his team bothered to tell him.

As he slowly descended the stairs he could only see the eyes of his SFA, no former SFA he reminded himself, in his mind. Eyes that looked at him as if he was a stranger, a murderer, responsible for the deepest pain possible in the young man.

Yes, he definitely was missing something, and he would find out what it was.


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: here is the next installment of a dads abandonment... Completely in gibbs pov. Hope you like it!**

**disclaimer: i don't own ncis**

**dont forget to review!**

**cjb1990**

* * *

Gibbs looked out into the dark that seemed to develop his basement. The last week had been tough. DiNozzo had been on leave, but the scuttlebutt that surrounded it all was most disturbing. First of all, everyone on the floor seemed to agree that DiNozzo should get out of there, especially now that Gibbs was back. Gibbs knew that many people (and to admit it, himself included) thought not much about DiNozzo. But the man had been his SFA. Nobody spoke like that about his team.

He had accosted Balboa, grunting something to him about the vicious gossip spreading around about DiNozzo. Balboa had looked at him stunned and then started laughing.

"You think we wanted to get rid of _DiNozzo_?" the man had actually smirked at the gruff marine. "Man, hearing you like this, no wonder he gave up on it all. Let me clue you in, _Agent_ Gibbs. That man has been under fire, both enemy and friendly. Now Morrow throws him a landline … If he hadn't decided himself to take it, I would have booted his ass over to Homeland. Before anyone here gets him killed."

The man hadn't even given Gibbs a chance to respond and had walked back to his own team, that was staring at Gibbs with veiled disgust.

The second part of the scuttlebutt was much more disturbing. Apparently a cold war had been declared between Jenny and Morrow. And after seeing Tom at Tony's place, he didn't need his famous gut to understand what it was all about. There was a battle royale going on, with DiNozzo as the price.

McGee and Ziva had been glad that Tony was gone this week. The little sneers and jabs they spouted told him there was much more going on than he had guessed at his first return. He tried to ferret out McGee, while teaching him the ropes. McGee had been like an overgrown puppy, the way he latched up the attention and lessons. It had been disturbing, hadn't his SFA been teaching the probie? Had DiNozzo failed that much as Team Leader?

And then lastly, there was Fornell. Granted, the man had practically begged him for help. Considering it had been about Emily as well as the dirtbag, he hadn't refused. But there had been a newly founded understanding between Fornell and his second. The FBI agent had almost been apologetic towards the Italian, as if he was sorry to drag Gibbs in front of him. He didn't get what the subtext was around here. He was missing a big piece of the puzzle.

He took a healthy swig of the bourbon. He knew there was something substantial he was missing about his SFA. And nobody seemed inclined to tell him, which only enraged him. Like he could help it that his memories were wiped clean because of a stupid explosion! He thought back to his Mexican siesta with Franks. Even his old mentor had been pushing him to check in with the team lead he had left behind, saying that he couldn't leave the boy in the lurch.

Franks knew it as well, flashed through his mind. Franks knew and shut up about it. What the hellw as so important that nobody wanted to clue him in?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his front door. He waited patiently to see who appeared at the top of the stairs. It was Fornell, clutching a new bottle of bourbon in his hand.

"Thought you had drunk your own supply by now," the old man snarked.

"You my enabler, Tobias?" Gibbs inquired.

"God no," Fornell scoffed. "Just need you to be all watered up before giving the bad news."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow as he held out his glass. Fornell readily poored a generous glass for him and himself.

"So, what is so bad I need a whole bottle of bourbon?"

"FBI, CIA and Homeland are zeroing in on NCIS," Fornell announced.

Gibbs almost choked on his swallow of booze. "Why?"

"Take a guess," Fornell spoke darkly.

"Well, Tom isn't pulling his punches," Gibbs chuckled darkly. "He wants DiNozzo real bad then."

The force of Fornell's glare surprised the marine. "It's not about that. At least not the way you think, Jethro."

"Then what is it!" Gibbs exploded. "Apparently I'm missing a whole lot around here. And my team has been kept in the dark as well. So what the hell did DiNozzo _do_, that his ass is being hauled out of the fire by the Deputy of Homeland!"

Fornell stood up with his arms crossed. "Don't go blaming this all on the boy, Jethro!"

Gibbs turned his head away in denial. "Then tell me!"

Fornell stood there silently, weighing the man in front of him. He made his decision. He knew Tony would likely shoot his balls for this, but the part that happened this last few months… Gibbs needed to know how badly everyone abandoned Tony.

"Tony took the only out available for him," Fornell's voice was soft. "Shepherd forced him to take McGee as his SFA, and a new probie on the team as well."

Gibbs froze at that. He had seen the level of work McGee gave him. It was alright but not exceptional. Tony would've had to train him to become a SFA, plus have the responsibility of a new probie as well.

"The boy hadn't been working as a field agent for more than two years, a year of that he was probationary, and Shepherd didn't listen to anything Tony had to say. Just shoved her decision down his throat. Heard the other SFA's got pretty pissed at your boy wonder. Seemed he got the same raise in ego as in money."

Gibbs shook his head, that didn't explain the clusterfuck that was NCIS politics at the moment.

"But the real kicker was when Shepherd approached Tony for an undercover operation," Fornell's voice pierced the silence. "Apparently, DiNutso had some ah, _doubts_, about the parameters and back-up. Now, when the team leader refuses the job, guess what self-important SFA would have been approached for it."

Gibbs shook his head, this time in disbelief. "McGee would have been made within ten minutes. Jenny would never compromise an agent or an operation like that."

"She threatened DiNozzo with it nevertheless," Fornell argued back. "Would she have followed through? I don't know. But she damn well made Tony believe that he should take it or have his probie killed."

Gibbs grimaced at that. He didn't remember a lot about DiNozzo, but his loyalty was renowned. He was as slippery as an eel when it came to verbal sparring, but that would always be his weakness.

"And this offensive that Morrow started?" he demanded.

"Tony handed in his resignation. As far as I figured it out, Shepherd implied she would have him made."

Gibbs was frozen in shock. Would Jenny really go that far? He thought back to that night he stood in front of Tony's door. He had been enraged, and therefore hadn't really took in his SFA. But he could clearly recall the exhausted slump of the shoulder, the cold fury in his eyes. And Morrow had been enraged as well, apparently enough to circle the wagons and open fire on NCIS.

Not that Gibbs could really blame his old boss. After hearing this tale…

"How did Morrow know?" he asked as he slumped back on his seat, emptying his glass in one swig.

"The boy and he kept in touch this last year," Fornell announced. Well it was true… "Tony was gagged about the op, but gave Morrow enough non-sequiturs so he could figure it all out. He brought me in on it."

Fornell leaned against the rough work bench. "Jethro, he was forced to work the job on a girl that was just an in, completely no criminal implications on her. And he had virtually no back-up."

The last one stung the most. Tony had been gagged and left for the sharks. He could only thank god that his second was politically savvy enough and used his network to make it out alive. Gibbs leaned back and went over the bigger picture in his mind. He sighed, no wonder Tony did a runner. It was the only thing left to do.

"What about my team, I trained them better than that," Gibbs was grasping at straws and he knew it.

Fornell dignified the question with a snort. "McGee only did half of the work he was supposed to, and both of them were completely insubordinate. Your boy had no one at NCIS, Gibbs. Your Ms Sciuto was too heartbroken to even show a bit of support to Tony, and Dr Mallard too angry. Now, Morrow and I jumped in when we could, but ..."

Gibbs quelled the urge to groan out load. Fornell saw it though.

"Let's face it Jethro. DiNozzo has been screwed from all sides at NCIS, he is gone."

With that depressing parting gift, Fornell left Gibbs to his own devices. He had said all that he was at liberty to say. What the surly old man did with it, was completely up to Gibbs.

Gibbs had barely even noticed Fornell leaving, a rarity upon itself. But everything he had learned was too shocking in an on itself. The puzzle every little fact made, was even more disturbing. Tony DiNozzo had been through hell these past few months. Gibbs couldn't blame him for taking the life raft.

There was a small part of him (the part that always turned to anger when something didn't happen according to plan), that was cursing the Italina for messing up the well-organized world. The rest of him though, acknowledged the fact that DiNozzo really had nothing left but to abandon ship.

And he really hadn't helped with the way he had returned to the team. Although Jenny had made it seem like Tony already knew, that the desk was supposed to be empty. He should've had the clue when he had seen McGee's stuff in DiNozzo's desk.

He messed up, he messed up royally. He didn't know if he could ever tell the young man, but he realized it thoroughly. His gut was playing up though, telling him that everything Fornell told him was true, but a lot was left unsaid.

Guess it was time he showed himself the capable investigator he was. The case would not be a murder or anything like that. This was a missing person's case, and the victim? Tony DiNozzo


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I am back on track baby!**

**I'd like to take this moment to draw your attention to a review from 'guest'. Now, I always allow anonymous reviews on my stories, thinking that you shouldn't necessarily need to be a member of ff dot net to leave critics or positive re-enforcements. I normally don't use A/N to reply to reviews, only when I think one needs a reply I send them a PM.. **

**However I am breaking tradition and ask you to bear with me. However, this posted the following which pissed me off. **

_**I will be blunt and to the point I would love to read this however you currently have over dozen or so stories unfinished. When a writer has that many stories unfinished tell me something. Until you actually complete more then one or two I will have to wait. I did read this first chapter it was done well but you need to edit your on going stories either take them down and re-post and just keep couple stories up and actually finish some of these pups**_

**Basically the reviewer said to get my act together and finish a story. **

**So here is my reply: 1) I only have 11 stories posted, three of them are one-chapter stories so the ARE finished. Then you have this one, Unlikely Friends and Tony and Tony… they use an ongoing SERIES as a premises, so until NCIS stops I will continue on with the friendships and all that are described in them.**

**One of them is a Harry Potter story that is actually being written offline, so that I can update it regularly. **

**The last one is To Love a Hero. This is a story that is slow-going and has chapters that are about 7000 to 8000 words long. I really try to write that one as a novel, meaning trying to make sure there aren't any glaring plot-holes.**

**The sneer about a lot of unfinished stories saying something about the writers. I'd like to draw all of your attention to one of the greatest Snarry authors: Debstheslyhterinsnapefan. She has many unfinished stories that she updates regularly. BUT A GREAT WRITER!**

**And lastly: nobody asks you to click on the story until you see the caption 'completed'. So don't bother with it.**

**Okay rant done. Enjoy the following chapter and don't forget to review**

* * *

Gibbs couldn't remember ever having this long a case. He could sear the team used to be much faster with solving them, but now … They dragged on and on. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him of how he missed a certain member of his team, so he must have something to do with the normally faster process.

It had become such an issue, that Gibbs was forced to admit defeat (at least mentally) and had requested old case files from over the past four months. He read them over carefully, recognizing the style of the larger part of the reports as DiNozzo's. Gibbs frowned, that couldn't be right. He went back to the reports Ziva and McGee had given him after their last case.

He had been annoyed with the reports, not having them at their usual standards. He looked over the reports the two had done while he was away. A knot started to form in his gut. But that couldn't be. If he truly had done all …

Gibbs cursed under his breath, and went back to get files of cases from before the explosion. He could clearly see that DiNozzo still had the same style in his reports. The only difference was that during his absence, the reports were more of how he guided the team, instead of how he had approach the investigation as part of the team.

But McGee and Ziva… had they really slacked off as much as they did. Gibbs looked up and stared off into the darkness of the bullpen. He casted a glance at his watch, it was already way past midnight. He had stayed behind to start his investigation.

In the silence that ruled the bullpen at this time, the ping of the elevator was like a gong reverberating through the empty room. Gibbs was shocked to see that it was his missing SFA himself that had appeared. Holding something large in his arms, although he couldn't see what.

As Tony turned the corner of the last cubicle wall, he froze on the spot. He had thought Gibbs had left already and would be safe from anyone trying to interfere or threaten him. He forced himself to move.

"Gibbs," Tony nodded at his boss, his d-. no he cut himself of. His old boss, that was all.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs nodded back.

Tony acted like it didn't bother him to see the other man after his leave and before that, the way Gibbs had accosted him at his own front door.

Gibbs looked up and saw that Tony was carrying a large cardboard box. He remained silent and observed from behind his own desk, as Tony was slowly emptying his desk in the box.

The tension was cutting, and Tony's shoulder were stiff with it. He knew Gibbs was watching. He had casted a glance at Gibbs desk, and could swear that it was filled with different case reports. But he didn't understand, Gibbs would have been long finished with the case reports even if McGee and Ziva gave him the same level of dedication as they had given him the last four months.

Gibbs refused stubbornly to comment on DiNozzo packing up his stuff in front of him, just as DiNozzo seemed to be a stubborn ass and not say anything to his boss. Gibbs fumed silently as DiNozzo disrespect was displayed like this.

"_Jethro, it's not the boy's fault,"_

Fornell's voice reverberated through his mind. The message of his friend had been clear; stop with the blind rage and find out what your missing, marine! And he was trying, he truly was. Hell, he was buried in old case files voluntarily here, that should say enough. But it was hard to remain objective when DiNozzo was showing him such blatant disrespect.

He bowed his head back over his case files, trying to read them and find out exactly what had been happening over the last four months. He was distracted when he saw DiNozzo stop moving around his desk and stare at something in his lowest desk drawer.

A flash came through his mind, it was a short burst. He didn't even know if it was real.

"_So, what are you going to do with all these Merital awards?" the smile send his way was filled with pride and happiness._

"_Don't need one," he had replied, and tried to throw it away. A hand stopped him._

"_O no, you don't!" the young man, still just a kid really, had protested vehemently. "If you don't want to keep them, I will. I swear to god, only to throw them in your face that with every one of them came a lot of blood and tears and in the end justice!"_

_He had laughed freely and loudly. "Fine, keep them safe for me."_

A short conversation about medals. And DINozzo kept them for him? He could still hear his own laugh in his memory. He didn't know he could still laugh like that, and DiNozzo had caused it to do so. They had bantered easily and he had liked being teased by him. The warm feeling as his hand had stopped him tossing the merital award had felt familiar.

Gibbs stared at his SFA, no former SFA, while he tried to hunt down the feeling the memory caused him. He followed its tracks to the dark pit that he still hadn't recovered. It was then that he had to admit he had forgotten a lot when it came to the Italian.

He now was ready to listen, but would DiNozzo talk? He was all too conscious about the way DiNozzo was trying to flee not just him or the team, but all of NCIS. The director was out for blood, and Morrow had thrown himself in the role of the savior.

"DiNozzo," he blurted out before his normal reluctance for conversation could overwhelm the urge to find out what he was missing.

"Yes?" DiNozzo's head jerked up, away from what he was staring at, which Gibbs knew was his box of medals.

"Why do you have them?"

"What?"

"Why do you keep my medals?" Gibbs voice was hard, in his frustration with his mind he was venting his anger at the other man.

DiNozzo rose up, the stiffness in his shoulders now because of anger.

"Sorry for making sure that the memorabilia of your excellent record were not immediately trashed," DiNozzo spat the words in his face and dropped the metal box on the files that were poured over Gibbs' desk.

"Goodbye Gibbs," DiNozzo said with a neutral voice. "Trust me one last time and don't try and save the Director. She has it all coming. Karma is a bitch."

He paused for one second. "Watch your six, Gibbs."

With those words he marched to the staircase and disappeared.

Gibbs remained seated behind his desk, like a statue. It was clear that DiNozzo wasn't coming back and didn't want to talk.

But the longer he sat there, the more he realized he had a pathetic and absolute need to rush behind the younger man. His heart felt like it was breaking once more. But why?

The next day, the MCRT was greeted by DiNozzo's bare desk. Gibbs ignored it to the best of his abilities.

"Gibbs," his face turned upwards to see the Director halfway up the stairs. "My office, now!"

Gibbs stood up and followed the Director at a sedate pace. After what Fornell told him, he was not ready to take Jenny's word for anything. He didn't trust her.

"Close the door behind you, Jethro," her voice was soft as she sat herself behind her desk.

Gibbs complied for now and waited in front of her desk.

"I need to show you something," Jenny hesitated. "I'm not sure how to tell you, but I thought it better to tell you in person."

She handed him a manila envelope. Gibbs opened it and drew out several documents and pictures. On the pictures were Tony and a beautiful woman standing outside a hospital.

"That is Jeanne Benoit," Jenny pointed out. "She is the daughter of the Frog. It turns out DiNozzo is dating her. And then I found these documents."

Gibbs eyes flicked over the pictures and documents. The words jumbled but he could make them out. These were the documents he himself also possessed; necessary explanations for multiple back-ups. DiNozzo was an agent with an extended undercover career. Of course he was paranoid. What Gibbs didn't understand was how Jenny had got to them.

It was clear what she was trying to play. She was going down. No way would she survive the hurricane Morrow. But she was not going down alone. She would destroy any and all possibility that DiNozzo would ever work as an agent ever again.

Tony DiNozzo was now under official investigation on suspicion of arms dealing and illegal fire arm pruchases.


End file.
